Illuminations
by GranthamGal
Summary: Three times Cora and Robert needed a bit of light.


A/N: Tumblr story requests.

* * *

_1888_

"Oh, god, you frightened me!" Cora cried out as she nearly dropped the candle she had carried into her bedroom. Robert was sitting atop her bed—in the dark—smiling quite sheepishly at her. He only smiled and stood as she took in his odd expression. Cora noticed he was already in his pajamas.

He had excused himself after dinner, claiming a headache. It was not a headache Robert Crawley was suffering from, though. What he did have, apparently, was some sort of _lovesickness_; though he would never, ever, admit to that. Watching his wife throughout dinner had been a taxing task. His stomach turned nervously, his palms were sweating and he could swear everyone in the room knew exactly what he was thinking as he eyed her cautiously. Tonight, he would finally tell her. He had watched her carefully as they spent these last few months together. She was kind. She was intelligent. She was witty. She was beautiful. And by some stroke of luck, she was his wife. What started as stilted conversations and awkward marital encounters had slowly turned to easy banter and shared smiles from across various rooms of the house. They had never spoken of love, but now with startling clarity, Robert knew he loved his wife. He loved Cora.

"Robert—" Cora interrupted his musings. "What are you doing in the dark?"

He paused to collect his thoughts for a brief moment, and to take one last deep breath, as he again looked at his beautiful wife. Slowly, he reached over and turned on the small oil lamp beside the bed.

A soft glow illuminated the room.

"Does your head still hurt?" She prompted.

"No, no it is not my head." He explained, quietly. She did not prompt him further, but watched curiously as he stood, walked over, and took her hands into his.

"Cora, I—I love you."

He nearly winced at his blundered delivery of the words he had wanted to say for some time. He should have kept the light off; if the light were out, at least her rejection would be covered by the darkness of the room. But no, here he was in front of her, fully exposed. Tentatively, he looked up to meet her gaze.

Cora studied his face for the briefest of seconds before smiling a smile more brilliantly illuminating than a thousand candles. Throwing her arms around him, their bodies pressed together and she hummed happily against his neck.

Finally, she drew back. "I love you too, Robert. So very much." She grinned once more at his expression—a mixture of joy, bewilderment, and youthful excitement.

"You do?"

"Of course I do. I would never marry a man I didn't love," she confided, whispering against his neck. Cora had loved her husband for far longer than most would deem appropriate. But now she would shout it from the roof of the house if he wished. She loved Robert Crawley, so very much.

He grinned happily and watched as she crept toward the bed, throwing a coy glance over her shoulder, back at him. "Turn out the light on your way over," she murmured.

Robert happily complied, following her to bed and getting under the covers, but he made no movement toward the lamp on the bedside table. Cora finally moved to reach over him to flip it off, eager to show him just how much she wanted him beside her, but he stilled her hand with his.

"Leave it on," he whispered. "I want to see you."

Cora blushed deeply but nodded with agreement at his request as he drew her close once more and finally pressed a kiss to her lips.

The room remained bathed in a warm glow for several hours, until the very last drop of oil had burned. Neither Cora nor Robert noticed, though. They were fast asleep, tangled up in the sheets and each other.

* * *

_1896_

"Robert—"

Cora whispered her husband's name rather loudly in the darkness of the room and poked his shoulder when he failed to respond. He had been snoring, rather loudly, but Cora had been awake since they had gone to bed hours before.

"…Yes, Cora what is it?" He finally murmured, turning over to face her.

"What do you think the servants do with the leftover biscuits from tea each day?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," Robert muttered, resting his head back against his pillow, "why?"

"Oh, no reason." Cora leaned back against her own pillow and sighed loudly.

Robert sat up and looked down at his wife. He sighed his own loud sigh, knowing he would not be getting back to sleep just yet, and turned on the lamp beside the bed.

"What is it?" He asked, as Cora sat up with a sheepish expression.

"Its just—well—I have the strongest craving for a chocolate biscuit, " she explained.

"I see. Well, as it is three in the morning, I do not think there is anyone downstairs to locate biscuits for us," Robert replied gently, not wanting to upset her.

Cora frowned, and wordlessly, stood up from the bed. "I think I will just go to the kitchen and look myself," she declared.

"Cora! I cannot let my wife, my nearly nine-month pregnant wife, wander the halls in search of biscuits," Robert cried, standing from bed as well.

"Come with me then," Cora replied as she tried to adjust her dressing gown to fit over the enormous swell of her abdomen. Soon to be a mother of three, she thought she would have been used to feeling so _large_, but this baby seemed to want to be bigger than both Mary and Edith. She raised her eyebrows as she looked up once more, daring him to refuse his pregnant wife, and held out her hand.

Robert eyed her for a moment before relenting and taking her proffered hand.

A short walk later, well—waddle for Cora, they found themselves in the very dark kitchen. Robert managed to fumble around and locate a plate of chocolate biscuits in a cupboard, along with one small candle. They sat at the table in the middle of the room and he lit it, lest they eat in total darkness. Cora ate three biscuits in quick succession as the room glowed softly and Robert looked on indulgently.

"May we go back to bed, now?" Robert asked after Cora sighed contentedly and patted her stomach.

She grinned in response. "Yes, we may. But do blow out the candle, we mustn't let the servants know we are lighting up the kitchens late at night," she laughed.

Robert rolled his eyes playfully and blew out the candle, watching as the smoke floated up toward the ceiling. He took Cora's hand once more and led her back upstairs. Chuckling to himself, he knew he would happily light up the kitchens any time she asked. He was utterly useless when it came to refusing his wife.

* * *

_1912_

"But Cora, it would be so much more convenient to have it in here!" Robert argued as he flopped against the bed. It had been a rather long day, and the last thing he wanted was another argument about having electricity put in the house. They had been discussing it all week, and yet again they seemed unable to reach a resolution.

"Can't we just have it downstairs and in the kitchens?" Cora argued back, putting her book down and turning to face her husband.

"I don't see the point of having it installed in the kitchens and we _are_ having it installed downstairs. The man is coming to put the generator in tomorrow and I must tell him if we want it in the bedrooms as well."

"I already told you I do not want it in our bedroom," Cora laughed, leaning up to kiss Robert's cheek.

"It would be easier to read and to dress at night, or even in the early morning," he replied.

"No, no, and no," Cora whispered, placing three soft kisses on his cheeks and lips in quick succession.

"But, why not?" Robert asked, exasperatedly, pulling back from her embrace.

Cora grinned and motioned for Robert to rest his head against her chest. He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance before doing as he was told and settling himself against his wife. Cora wrapped an arm around him before gently running her fingers through his hair and down his neck.

"Because," she finally answered, "you look ever so handsome in candlelight."

Robert chuckled and looked up to meet her mischievous grin. "You cannot be serious."

"Oh, I am quite serious, quite serious indeed," she replied in a mock English accent, grinning madly before leaning down to capture his lips in a more passionate kiss. Very quickly, all thoughts of electricity and generators and light fixtures flew from Robert's mind. He leaned over his shoulder to blow out the candle before quickly returning to cover Cora's body with his own. She giggled, knowing just how easy it was to distract her husband, and happily wrapped her arms around him.

The next morning, Robert pulled Carson aside after breakfast.

"When the man from the electric company arrives, tell him to have it installed down here, and in the upstairs bedrooms—except for her ladyship's," Robert instructed.

Carson raised his brows slightly; it was a rather odd request, but who was he to question his lordship.

Robert noticed his curious expression, though, and felt his face warm slightly in embarrassment. He should have come up with a more plausible explanation before coming down this morning.

"Her ladyship is fearfully afraid of electricity, I'm afraid—" Robert explained quickly. "She—she had a cousin in America who was shocked by a faulty light switch…or something. So she refuses to have it in her bedroom." Robert was fairly certain his face was as red as the strawberries on his breakfast plate, but he nodded at Carson and managed to get out of the room without further embarrassment, or further insight into Cora's 'fear' of electricity. Did she even have a cousin in America? Robert wondered, as he headed upstairs to share his encounter with Cora...

"Mmmm, now isn't this better?" Cora murmured against her husband's chest later that night. The room was illuminated in a soft glow coming from the candles on their bedside and a crackling fire in the corner fireplace.

"Much better," Robert agreed. Cora looked ethereal, bathed in candlelight, and he inwardly cursed his own stupidity for nearly ruining his chance to see her like this each night. His wife was most certainly the clever one, he mused. He leaned down and kissed her forehead once more finally blowing out the candles beside them.

Even with the candles blown out, though, the room still seemed to glow. There was lasting warmth that remained, even on the darkest nights.

* * *

A/N: I'd love to know what you think! :)


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